


what we owe to each other

by HerotheHardWay



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Banter, Childhood Trauma, F/F, Friends to Enemies to Lovers, Future Fic, Major Catra introspection, Making Out, Mentions of Masturbation, Mentions of voyurism, Mutual Pining, Post Season 1, Post-Canon, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-10
Updated: 2018-12-10
Packaged: 2019-09-15 12:55:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16933635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HerotheHardWay/pseuds/HerotheHardWay
Summary: It's been two years since the Battle of Bright Moon.  The war drags on, the balance of power shifting back and forth, never enough for one side to win. This wasn’t the first time they’d been here, not by a long shot.  They’d danced around each other for years, and yet here they were again.  Catra standing in front of Adora.  Adora kneeling chained between two pillars even she’d have a hard time moving.  Now Catra just has to figure out what the rest of her plan was.





	what we owe to each other

_The Horde Invasion, or the Campaign, depending on who you ask, has churned on for years. The Horde’s defeat at the Battle of Bright Moon was a significant setback, but they rebuilt, this time with faster, smarter, more dangerous tech that threatens even the reformed and strengthened Princess Alliance. The balance of power shifts back and forth, never quite tipping enough for resolution. Casualties mount on both sides, and amidst it all, two girls orbit each other, unable to disentangle themselves, but never quite touching…_

 

* * *

 

 

Sometimes your best, most well thought out plans to capture the She-Ra…aren’t necessary, Catra mused as she contemplated the figure kneeling in front of her, unconscious. Sometimes, it paid that Adora was her former best friend, and that she had such an idiotic hero complex, and such terrible impulse control. She’d waltzed right into this little trap Catra had rigged, using only the barest promise of parlay.

 

This wasn’t the first time they’d been here, not by a long shot. They’d danced around each other for years, and yet here they were again. Catra standing in front of Adora. Adora kneeling chained between two pillars even _she’d_ have a hard time moving, with special reinforced restraints courtesy of Entrapta.

 

Adora—no, _She-Ra_ was starting to wake up, moving restlessly and flexing her gorgeous— Catra hissed and turned away from the infuriatingly gorgeous amazon. _We can’t all have magical makeovers now, can we?_

 

She melded back into the shadows before She-Ra opened her eyes. Let her think she’d been captured and left in the First Ones ruin. Catra had made sure the whole facility was disconnected from the network before selecting this location. There was no _way_ She-Ra would be able to get out of this one by herself.

 

 

Another groan, and She-Ra slowly opened her eyes, blinking blearily. She quickly scanned the room. Each of her wrists were encased in heavy metal cuffs, chained to thick stone pylons that even she wouldn’t be able to budge. Red electricity crackled up and down their length, the cuffs dotted with blinking lights connected to complex electrical circuits. She could feel the magic in the restraints like a constant buzz in her mind, not quite letting her focus. Why was she here? Oh right—“CATRA!!” she roared.

 

Her own voice reverberated around her, quickly fading away to absolute silence.

 

“Catra! I know you’re still here!” Nothing.

 

“You can’t just chain me up in a temple! Come out and talk instead of cowering like a…coward!”

 

From her vantage point in an alcove high up the wall, Catra rolled her eyes. _You’ve never really gotten the point of traps, ~~goofus~~ idiot. I don’t have to talk to you._

She-Ra again struggled against her restraints, but Catra knew they would hold. She’d be here for as long as Catra wanted her, and she’d brought lunch.

 

Catra leaned against the wall and pulled out the sandwich she’d packed for the occasion. Time to watch the She-Ra fall apart. Catra had planned this well, and she planned to enjoy the show wholeheartedly.

 

“You’re somewhere around here, I can feel it.”

 

Catra took a bite of her sandwich. Ham and cheese.

 

The She-Ra sounded annoyed. “What’s the point of a trap if you just leave me here?”

 

Another bite of sandwich. Chew. Swallow.

 

“Someone will come looking.”

 

She-Ra resumed her efforts to free herself, grunting with effort. Catra had made sure she’d have no leverage, and those cuffs emitted special electric impulses that prevented her from using her full strength. After several minutes she screamed in frustration and subsided.

 

Catra finished her sandwich and licked her fingers clean. She should have brought a datapad. This was a lot more boring than she’d imagined capturing the She-Ra to be.

 

The silence in the crystal cavern stretched out, thickened. How long had they been here already?

 

Suddenly She-Ra started speaking. “It isn’t easy, you know, being the hero all the damn time. People expect…a lot,” she trailed off.

 

More quiet, but not nearly as long. “They all wish they could have She-Ra all the time. Even Glimmer and Bow—I know they love me without all this…” She-Ra looked down at herself, “the crown thingie, and the superstrength, and the battle skills and magic. But I can’t—it doesn’t work like that. I wish it did. Maybe if I could just be stronger, all the time—“

 

Catra wasn’t sure how it worked when She-Ra didn’t have the sword. She didn’t have it now, and she was still all buff and golden and…She-Ra-y. Catra kinda wished she’d stay like this all the time too. It was easier.

 

Ado—She-Ra halfheartedly tugged at one chain, and winced as the red sparks stabbed into her wrists. “Things would be so different if I’d never left the Horde. I think about it sometimes, you know? Do you? I guess I’d be force-captain instead of you…” She-Ra laughed. “Imagine me as a force captain Catra. All I ever wanted was Shadow Weaver to like me. Commanding an army? I’ll pass.”

 

She-Ra fell quiet, staring at nothing. Then, “I can tell you’re good at it though, you know? You’re ten times the force-captain I’d ever be. I kinda hate that I can still admire you for it, isn’t that messed up? We’re enemies, on opposite sides of this godforsaken war, and we barely see each other nowadays…” she sighed.

 

More quiet.

 

“I was idealistic coming here, thinking I could change your mind, like I haven’t tried _so many times_ —“ She-Ra’s voice cracked, and it was so—so _Adora._ Catra clenched her hands, claws digging into her palms.

 

“I haven’t seen you in months…a year? Catra…I thought you’d _be_ here that’s why I ca—“

 

Catra had the distinct feeling She-Ra—no, _Adora_ , Catra couldn’t kid herself about who She-Ra was and wasn’t any more—Adora really thought she was alone.    

 

Adora laughed, in the way that she did when Shadow Weaver had just chewed them all out and singled Adora out as the scapegoat. Or when she was trying to hide the fact that her ribcage was covered in bruises from training, and it hurt to breathe. “Y’know, I still can’t sleep without y—alone. Glimmer lets me sleep in her room, but it’s not…I just _miss_ you.”

 

Once upon a time, when this all started and the only emotion Catra was capable of feeling was anger, she would have dismissed Adora’s words as just another lie. But they had been fighting for _so long_ and now she clung to the hope in them. Maybe, things weren’t ruined forever—No. She couldn’t think like that. Here she had the She-Ra prisoner. She could do whatever she wanted with her, and it didn’t matter that all she _wanted_ to do was kiss her senseless.

 

She should have thought this through better before she got Adora to come here. Everything was already too precarious, their relationship delicately balanced. One wrong move and everything would come crashing down.

 

“I wish—“ Adora mumbled, so quiet Catra almost didn’t catch it. “I just wish we could just— _God_ Catra…I miss you so much sometimes I feel like half a person.” She squeezed her eyes shut, her golden hair falling messily around her face. “I can’t—I don’t know who I am without you. It seems like the longer this damn war goes on…well we both know where this will probably end.”

 

Catra knew. _One of us wins, and one of us dies._ Maybe there used to be another path, but all those bridges had been burned a long time ago.

 

Adora shuddered, just once. She clenched her fists in their shackles, the tightness in her shoulders obvious from a mile away. One tiny dark spot appeared on the flagstone floor. Another. She was crying, just the way they’d learned to do in the Horde. Silent. Motionless. Catra felt a twinge in her chest. Maybe if she could just—somehow—

 

“You have to let me go. My friends need me.” Adora whispered.

 

Her friends—? Oh that was _rich_. Catra had almost been ready to call a truce but now? No _way._ She leapt down from her perch, landing with a soft thump in a crouch in front of Adora. Her prisoner’s flaxen head jerked up, eyes wide, although clearly red-rimmed and puffy. Catra snarled, “ _I_ was your friend.”

 

In an instant, Adora went from despondent to electric with anger. Eyes flashing, she exploded. “I _knew_ you were here! Dammit, forget what I—let me out of these chains and fight me yourself. Unless you’re too _scared_.” Adora spit out, glaring daggers at her.

 

Catra’s heartbeat accelerated, but she stood her ground. _You’re ice cold Catra._ “I think that’ll be a no, Adora.” Catra drawled, examining her claws. “You have no power here.”

 

“If you think I’m powerless, you’ve got another thing coming,” Adora growled, and her aura began glowing brighter and brighter, energy making the chains binding her blur. Catra could feel the heat radiating off her from ten feet away, and she, obviously totally casually, took a step back.

 

Her heart raced. She’d thought of everything, right? Power dampening chains, sword gone, multi-ton pillars sunk into the bedrock...The ground rumbled, and a few chunks of crystal fell from somewhere above them, splintering into dust on the stone floor. Adora truly was a sight to behold, and Catra didn’t pretend the sight of her all glowing and gorgeous and bringing down the temple piece by fucking piece with her raw power didn’t _really_ do it for her.

 

She made sure her face was schooled into a mask of indifference, and not the dopey expression she’d been known to show when she watched Adora do something particularly impressive from afar. Slowly, the She-Ra’s aura faded, leaving an admittedly still transformed, but defeated looking Adora sweat-soaked and gasping. Her mass of normally voluminous hair seemed to have lost its gravity-defying powers, hanging limply in a curtain in her face.

 

“Already given up? I thought you had more in you, Adora.”

 

Adora hung her head, breathing hard. “Hah—I’m—saving it.”

 

Catra snorted. She seriously doubted it. Whatever She-Ra powers Adora had? They were severely diminished without the sword. Catra had seen it in dozens of battles. “Whatever you say, goldie.”

 

“Don’t call me that.” Adora snapped.

 

“I can call you whatever I want, golden girl.”

 

“This isn’t _freaking_ funny Catra.”

 

Catra snorted. “Actually it is pretty funny.”

 

“Gah! _Why won’t you ever listen to me?”_

 

“Maybe because I don’t fucking _want_ to.”

 

“Then what’s the point of this then?”

 

Catra hissed at her. “The point is that _you_ have to listen to _me!_ I know this is hard to fathom, but not everything is about you, Adora. Sometimes, it’s about me. And _I control you_.

 

“This again? When have I ever controlled you! We were cadets together!”

 

“Maybe every single time you left me to Shadow Weaver? Huh? Remember that? All those times you couldn’t risk falling from her favor, even to protect me?” Catra pressed one finger to Adora’s forehead and tilted her head back until they were eye to eye. “That was control, Adora. That’s what it’s called when you don’t use your power to keep your _promises_.”

 

“Oh get over yourself.” Adora burst out angrily. “Dammit Catra we could be together _right now_ if you didn’t have so much fucking pride!”

 

“Well I’m sorry! I’m sorry I don’t want to stand in you shadow for my ENTIRE LIFE!” Catra couldn’t get a handle on herself. This was too much like the shouting matches they used to have as cadets. Everyone else would make themselves invisible as Catra and Adora screamed themselves hoarse. But by nightfall they’d always made up, and they’d fall asleep curled together. It couldn’t be like that anymore.

 

Adora shouted back, “What are you _talking about?_ I never had a shadow! You weren’t in anybody’s shadow except your own!”

 

“Hah, that’s a good one, how are you forgetting the _literal shadow_ who constantly pitted us against each other for our _entire lives!?”_

 

“I never saw you as a competitor!” Adora protested.

 

Catra strode up to the Princess and grabbed her chin with one hand, forcing her to meet her eyes. She snarled, “That’s because you always _won the goddamn competition_ Adora. You didn’t have to fight for it, not ever.”

 

Adora sqeezed her eyes shut. “That’s not true.” She took a breath. And when she finally looked up at Catra, her eyes held all the fierceness Catra remembered, and so much agony underneath it she had to look away. “I wasn’t allowed to _stop_ fighting. Neither of us were.”

 

Catra hissed and yanked her hand away. She had too much energy buzzing inside her to be still, started pacing, staring at her hand like it’d betrayed her. She hated this feeling, like there was a chunk of First Ones tech sitting heavy in her chest instead of a heart, like she was acting out a script she’d never signed on to. No matter what either of them did, every step they thought they’d chosen had been choreographed by someone else a long, long time ago—Shadow Weaver, Hordac, that bitchy computer program Light Hope, maybe even that crazy lady in the woods Catra kept running into (what was her name?).

 

When Catra forced herself to look at Adora again, it was just in time to see her crystal blue eyes darken to a familiar blue-gray as Adora slipped, between one breath and the next, back into her ordinary body. She slumped forward as much as the chains would allow, wisps of regular old light brown hair coming free from her ponytail.

 

“Why are we doing this.” Adora mumbled.

 

 _Because you left me and that was the one thing you promised never to do._ But Catra knew that wasn’t really fair. Adora had nailed it: They were still just two soldiers. It wasn’t Adora’s fault she’d blindly followed the path laid out for her, any more than it was Catra’s fault she’d been forced to compete with Adora their entire lives. They’d both jumped at the chance to be something _different_ than pawns powerful people sacrificed like it cost nothing _._

 

Catra continued pacing, ignoring Adora’s pleading stare for a minute. She mentally smacked herself. _Why_ had she thought it was a good idea to set her trap in a First Ones temple!? Sure, they were secure as hell, but they messed with Catra’s head, and the only one allowed to mess with Catra’s head was her.

 

After that last time more than two years ago, the last time she and Adora had really talked, her dreams had been full of blonde hair and blue eyes; Adora teasing her, and questioning her, and always that final, betrayed look right before Catra had left her. So by day Catra fortified herself with logic. She knew she’d never have gotten to be Hordac’s second-in-command with Adora around. She had the power now to control her _own_ life. But at night it was harder to remember why those things mattered when her bed felt huge and empty without Adora in it. Why _were_ they doing this? Because it was what they were supposed to do? Fuck that. Catra was done with it. She ground to a halt and took a deep breath, uncrossed her arms. “Cuz I captured you, goofus.” She teased, in a tone that was rusty with disuse.

 

Adora glanced up at Catra, eyes widening with a sliver of hope. She cracked a tiny smile.   “ _That_ plan went well.”

 

Catra huffed. “It did, actually? Look, here you are. Captured.”

 

Adora hummed. “That I am! Here I am, totally captured. You got me.”

 

“Why are you smiling??”

 

“So what exactly was your idea for after you _got_ me? Couples therapy?”

 

An unexpected laugh bubbled out of Catra. “We really are a mess, huh.”

 

“Pro tip Catra? Evil plans usually involve _actual_ evil.”

 

“Hey! I took your sword!” Catra gestured wildly at the restraints. “Magic dampening! I tied you up!”

 

Adora snorted.

 

Catra took a deep breath. “But actually Adora. I missed you too.”

 

Adora’s face split into a tired grin. “Really?”

 

“Don’t make me say it again, dumbass.”

 

“Careful, people might say that you _like_ me, or something.” Adora said, and under her exhaustion there was a hint of that playful tone that was _just_ this side of flirty that had always driven Catra crazy.

 

Catra sputtered, fighting down the heat in her cheeks. “Why do you always--I don’t _like_ you, what are you talking about.” Not this again. Her heart couldn’t handle all the lying. Two years ago Adora had said the same thing and it had been easy to brush it off. She’d been hurting so much, the wound of Adora’s betrayal still fresh and aching. But after all this time, honestly? She did miss Adora just as much as Adora had admitted to. Missed fighting together, and eating together, and living in each other’s pocket 24/7. _People might think I like you?? The only person who doesn’t think that is you_. Catra shook herself. _Focus_. She was letting Adora take control of the conversation. She glared down at her captive. “When will you get it through your pretty head Adora. I _don’t. Like you_.”

 

“Sure you don’t.”

 

Adora threw her hands up. “I definitely don’t! You annoy me constantly!” Catra protested.

 

“Huh. That’s not what Lonnie and Kyle seem to think, last time I crossed paths with them.” Adora smirked.

 

 _Oh no._ Catra blanched. “Lonnie and Kyle are full of shit.”

 

“Mm. And that’s why they just _happened_ to mention you were spying on me?”

 

“We’re enemies, Adora. What do you expect?” But Catra was suddenly forced to recall that one time, when Kyle had walked in when she’d been spying on Adora after a battle Horde had lost. And Adora had—her heart dropped into her stomach. This wasn’t the way she’d ever wanted Adora to find out that she’d. What if she didn’t—

 

But Adora didn’t seem fazed. If anything, she seemed like she was almost…enjoying herself? Her heavy gaze felt like it was pinning Catra like some especially fascinating specimen, and Catra was helpless to resist. Adora raised one eyebrow, “And Kyle, sweet Kyle. _He_ mentioned…well I didn’t know _that_ was necessary information for Hordac’s evil plan. But I guess it must get lonely, all by yourself, in that big empty room with the Black Garnet.”

 

“That wasn’t—I wasn’t trying to _watch,_ you’d just come back from a mission and I was—and then you—it wasn’t—“ Catra’s ears twitched, and she pressed her hands to her head to make them stop. Her heart was racing, from anger? Embarrassment? Anticipation… _Oh god oh god oh god oh god—_

 

“Was I She-Ra? With all that golden hair you seem to like so much. It’s fun as She-Ra. More…powerful.” And then. Adora. Winked.

 

“Shut. Up.” Catra growled, stalking up to Adora and leaning over her, bringing their faces only inches apart. “Or I’ll—“

 

Adora interrupted her, “You’ll what, hurt me? That’s old news babe.”

 

Catra couldn’t take it anymore. She reached and yanked Adora’s ponytail back, forcing her to crane her neck in an even more unnatural position. She snarled, “Don’t test me, Adora. You have no _idea_ what I’m capable of right now.”

But instead of jerking back as Catra had expected (had she?) Adora just gazed up at her, eyelids hooded, with a heated look that made Catra’s stomach flip. “Oh is this how you like it?” she asked, voice strained but still absolutely infuriating.

 

Catra brought her face so close to Adora’s she could feel her breath on her lips. “This is your _last—_

Adora interrupted her. _“_ Wanna know who I was thinking about?”

 

Catra hissed in her face, tightening her grip on her hair, but Adora didn’t flinch. “ _You.”_

 

Catra had never believed in anything like fate. Fate was an excuse people used to make up for the fact that their lives sucked. But she and Adora had been drawn to each other since they’d both escaped from Toddler Training on the same day. Catra had tried _so hard_ to untangle herself from the force that tied them together, but it was as inextricable as gravity. It was just too cruel that the person who held her heart was her nemesis, the person she knew someday she’d have to kill.

 

And now here they were, and whatever force of will Catra had was long gone. All she knew was that she’d never wanted anything so badly in her life as kissing Adora, and that Adora’s blue, blue eyes, mirrored that desire, right before they slid shut. It was the inexorable pull of gravity that brought their lips crashing together, and the world was on fire.

 

Catra fell to her knees, slid both hands to cradle Adora’s head, fingers entwining with her hair until her ponytail was ruined. She pressed their bodies together and now Catra was the one who had to strain to reach Adora above her. Adora responded eagerly, working her mouth hot over Catra’s, and slowly making her lose her fucking mind. Kissing Adora was like a symphony. It was euphoria, and regret, and hope all twisted together so tightly they all tasted bittersweet. It was homecoming.

 

Catra’s mind was full of Adora, but she slowly became aware that Adora’s little aborted attempts to participate more fully were being hampered by her restraints. Adora yanked on one of her manacles, and pulled back from Catra with a grimace. “Can you—loosen—“ she panted.

 

Catra _knew_ those things were a bad idea. She swallowed, trying to collect her thoughts. She’d set this place up as a perfect containment facility but now? She didn’t give a fuck about any of it. _What was the…_ “Destination Entraptination,” she said hoarsely.

 

Adora blinked, nonplussed. “Uh—“

 

With a click, Adora’s shackles unlocked. Her eyes widened. She pulled her hands out of their restraints, and sat back on her heels for a moment, rubbing the red marks around her wrists. She stared at Catra, and Catra could actually hear the gears turning in her head. Was this the worst decision she’d ever—

 

Adora surged towards her and gripped her shoulders with bruising force, their mouths meeting again, wet and hot and perfect. If Catra had thought the first kiss was good, this was incendiary. After a minute Adora broke away and Catra leaned forward trying to follow her mouth. But it was only so she could straddle Catra’s thighs, and bend down to kiss her again, and again, and again until all Catra could think about was her.

 

Catra had only kissed one person, one time, (now two times) and that had been years ago, in the Fright Zone after they’d walked in on a pair of older cadets canoodling in a dark corner. The memory of them, curiously deciding to try it out, and the subsequent giggling and bumping of noses in their bunk that followed, seemed as far away as possible from the two of them here and now. Adora kissed her like she was drowning, and Catra was air. Like if it was possible to meld their bodies together, and never have to be apart again, she would do it. Catra certainly wouldn’t mind.

 

Adora did something just _so_ with her tongue, and it was a good thing Catra was already sitting on the floor because it made her go all soft and boneless. When had Adora gotten so good at this? She shoved down a hot flare of jealousy. It didn’t matter, except that Adora was making Catra go out of her mind.

 

“When did you get so talented,” Catra murmured. They were so close she was breathing Adora’s air, their lips a hair’s breadth apart.

 

“You’re not too shabby yourself,” Adora responded, grinning, and nipped at Catra’s lip and quickly leaning away.

 

Which _really_ did it for Catra. She chased after Adora’s lips, but Adora kept turning her head at the last second, grinning like a dork. Catra growled in frustration and went for her jaw instead, planting tiny kisses up to her ear, and then in the spot right behind her jaw where Adora’s skin was soft and warm. Adora hummed with pleasure and tilted her head to one side to give Catra better access, and Catra was helpless to refuse. Fuck. She really had no business being this perfect.

 

Catra drew back for a moment for a better look at Adora, and, _wow_. Adora’s eyes were closed, fine eyelashes brushing her cheeks. Somewhere along the line she’d wrapped her arms around Catra’s neck. Her cheeks were pink and her lips were parted just a little, and when she cracked open her eyes to see why Catra had stopped, she was the most gorgeous thing Catra had ever seen. “Beautiful,” she whispered, and Adora blushed and ducked her head.

 

“I’m prettier as She-Ra…better hair.” Adora said, biting her lip.

 

“Not true!” Catra protested. “You’re just different.” She said. She tucked a stray piece of hair behind Adora’s ear, and Adora turned and kissed the inside of her wrist. Catra momentarily lost her train of thought. “I like you better like this.”

 

Adora blushed even harder, if that was possible. It was true though. It was easier to pretend Adora wasn’t the same person who’d been Catra’s best friend for their entire childhood, when she was an 8 foot tall amazon warrior. It was easier to distance herself. Adora, looking like she always did though, with that stupid red jacket she’d had since they were fourteen… it was impossible to forget everything Adora meant to her then.

 

This time when their lips meant, it was without the bruising intensity of earlier. Their kiss was soft, and yearning, and full of all the feelings that they weren’t quite ready to speak out loud. Catra wasn’t accustomed to being handled so gently, but Adora’s hands were light and delicate, sliding down her arms, up her back, into her mane of hair. Catra decided she _really_ liked kissing.

 

 

They finally came up for air, and Catra couldn’t stop herself from staring at Adora. All those fantasies, of pushing Adora over the edge, of kissing her senseless? Real life was better. Real life Adora was leaning on one elbow, lips swollen and any semblance of her utilitarian hairdo long gone. Legs tangled together with Catra’s. And she was smiling, faintly.

 

The smile caught Catra off guard for some reason. Whenever she’d imagined a scenario like this one, it had always ended with Adora stalking out, refusing to acknowledge her feelings, finally smashing Catra’s heart to pieces once and for all. But she’d never in her wildest dreams imagined this one, in which Adora wanted Catra just as much as she wanted Adora, maybe didn’t hate her, even after all the pain they’d caused each other. Maybe she didn’t really know Adora at all. Maybe there was still a future for them.

 

Catra realized that she was smiling at Adora, too. “Hey, Adora,” she said, voice gravelly.

 

“Hey.” Adora’s smile grew.

 

There was this unfamiliar feeling in Catra’s chest. A light, warm feeling. Happiness, maybe? Yeah. That was it.

 

But they had to face the music at some point, and Catra’s stupid brain wouldn’t let her put it off. “So. What now?”

 

Adora rolled onto her back with a sigh, staring up at the crystal ceiling far above them. “God, I don’t know.” A pause. “You sure you won’t consider defecting?”

 

Catra scooted over to Adora’s side and joined her on her back. “I can’t.”

 

“They don’t know you like I do. I’ll convince them.” Adora said, feeling for Catra’s hand at her side. She laced their fingers together, squeezing tightly.

 

 _Why does this have to hurt so much?_ Catra thought. “I’m too responsible in the resistance’s eyes. For too many things. When you left, you were only a foot soldier.”

 

“ _Technically_ I was a force-captain…”

 

Catra sighed. “You know what I mean...I could. But I’d probably be thrown in prison. They wouldn’t trust me, ever.” Her voice grew stronger. “I won’t sacrifice my freedom. Even for you.”

 

“I don’t expect you to.” Adora squeezed her hand. “They wouldn’t trust you. Honestly I’m not sure I do either, not right now. It would take me a while to, to get there.” She sniffed, and when Catra turned her head, she watched a tear run down Adora’s face. “But god I want to.”

 

Catra’s eyes were embarrassingly watery too, and she blinked fast. “I can’t leave them. Scorpia and Entrapta and even Lonnie and Kyle. It’s not as simple as that.”

 

“I know. I just wish it were.”

 

They were quiet for a long time.

 

Adora would never give up on her. Catra knew that. But one of them had to make a decision, and she guessed it would have to be her. She slowly disentangled their fingers and sat up, drawing her knees to her chest. “I guess that’s it then.” She said, breaking the silence.

 

Adora looked at her from her position on the floor, resignation clear on her face, and sat up too. They’d been here before. Well, not exactly. The kissing was new. But Adora would never force Catra to do something she didn’t want to, and defecting? That was a Big Something.

 

Catra looked around the ruin, at the chains lying crumpled on the floor. At her sandwich wrapper, and the electrical cords snaking around the perimeter of the room. She didn’t need any of it. They would only remind her. She got to her feet, brushed some imaginary dust off her leggings, and with as much bravado as she could muster, sauntered over to the exit. The doors opened automatically, and she turned to look at Adora one last time. She gave a little mock salute. “See ya around, She-Ra.”

 

Adora gave a little wave back, a sad smile on her face. “Good luck…with everything.”

 

Catra couldn’t speak. And so she walked away.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Every step farther away from the ruin hurt. Every step felt like a door closing more and more. But Catra refused to look back, fixing her eyes firmly on one tree until she reached it, then finding a new landmark.

 

Suddenly she knew where she was. Here was where Adora had fallen out of the speeder, all those years ago. Back when they were just two girls who wanted something more from life. She realized she was crying, and once she did she couldn’t stop. She collapsed in front of the rock, sobs wracking her body. It was all so _stupid_. Why couldn’t she just have what she wanted, for once in her life? The only thing she’d ever _really_ wanted.

 

She suddenly knew it in her bones; they wouldn’t _get_ another chance like this one. The war was a continuously escalating arms race, with ever increasing stakes and more casualties every day. Someday, someday soon, the powers that be would force them into a situation only one of them could come out of. It wasn’t good strategy, after all, for your best fighter’s weakness be her enemy. If they didn’t do something now, the next time they met might be their last. She couldn’t let that happen.

 

Catra leapt up, looking wildly around her. She wasn’t actually that far from the ruin, she’d only thought she was walking away. The Whispering Woods were always like this, even thought they were still recovering from being iced. They knew what you needed. She started blindly running back, not caring about the scratches she got from the underbrush. _Please let it not be too late._

 

She came into view of the temple, just as Adora was exiting, devastation written all over her. Eyes dull, sword hanging loosely in her grip. “Adora, stop!” she shouted.

 

Adora saw her, and her eyes widened. “You came ba—“ was all she managed before Catra tackled her in a hug, knocking her to the ground.

 

Catra sat up on top of Adora, grabbed her hands and squeezed, hard. “We have to fix this.” She panted.

 

“Fix what?”

 

“The war. Us. The planet. I don’t know. We’ll figure it out.”

 

Adora struggled to sit up. “Why…”

 

Catra pressed their foreheads together. “I can’t kill you. I want—I _love_ you, and I won’t live in a world you’re not in. So we’re going to end this fucking war.”

 

Adora laughed breathlessly. “Ok. Ok! Yes!”

 

Catra laughed too. She was as light as a cloud, the feel of real hope almost unbearable. They were going to figure it out. Make a plan, strategize, convince their allies. But first— Adora bit her lip. “Can we please kiss again?”

 

 _“Please.”_ Catra breathed, before pressing their mouths together. Plans could come after that.

**Author's Note:**

> Fun fact, there is no friends to enemies to lovers tag! I'm shook. Other fun fact Catra and Adora are just stupid oblivious doofuses with a lot of pent up feelings. Of many kinds. Don't worry I would never let Catra walk away from Adora like that for good! Also SO to Avery who demanded more kissing. Your wish is my command :) Comment or kudo if you enjoyed the read and/or have a loooot of feelings about episode 11 and catra and adora.


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